


We are shaped by the light we let through us

by TotemundTabu



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: M/M, Ramsay is his own warning, abuse mention, past!thramsay, violence mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 02:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7080523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotemundTabu/pseuds/TotemundTabu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU - In which Robb goes missing and the unlikeliest trio ever: his best friend Theon, his half-brother Jon, and his dog Grey Wind - team up to find him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We are shaped by the light we let through us

**We are shaped by the light we let through us**

 

_I'll let you look inside me, through the stains and through the cracks,_

_And in the darkness of this moment,_

_You see the good and bad. (...)_

_This could be a big mistake,_

_We might burn like gasoline and fire,_

_It's a chance we'll have to take._

THOMPSON SQUARE – Glass 

 

Now, on the list of people he didn't expect to meet, Jon was probably right after his father, who didn't talk to him since his brothers' funeral and stubbornly used Asha as a messanger-tool since, and right before Bran, who despised him but not his help with math homework.

“I don't have a minute for our Lord and Savior, Snow, sorry.”, he chuckled, bitterly, ready to close the door again, right on Jon's nose.

The other put his feet between the door and gave him a scarily, unusually for him, intimidatory glare.

“Did you hear from him?”

Theon hesitated, then gave a scorny smirk, “Jesus?”

“Robb.”  
He frowned. That was the magic word to get his attention, afterall.

“Is he okay?”

“That's what I'd like to know...”

Good point. He must have been quiet desperate to come to him so firmly.

“I didn't see him since... friday, since the... well, you know...”

“The disastrous karaoke night?”

“Do we _need_ to call it like that?”

“Satin suggested dooms day and, I'm sure, if the embarassment were about anybody else, you would have already found a quite crueler name.”

Jon's snark was growing, which was bad, but Theon was too worried about Robb by then to slam the door in the face of the curl bush.

Jon lowered his eyes, “I didn't see him since then either.”

It was not like Robb to disappear. He was too responsible and too tighly bond to his siblings.

“Sansa?”

“Doesn't know either...”, Jon whispered.

There was no way he didn't tell her. _If he could speak, that's it_.

A sick sensation, like a tide, struck the back of Theon's head, filling his mouth with sourness and darkness.

“Well, thanks for telling me, if I get news, I'll tell you, fine?”

Theon was about to close the door again, when Jon laughed, “And here I thought at least him you cared about.”

He bit his bottom lip.

Oh, if he cared. Way too much and too deeply and he smelled damage.

“Look, Snow, kindly, go fuck yourself. Why did you even come here, uh?”

“He wanted me to!”

“Robb? - he asked, then his eyes fell beyond Jon, at his feet, when Grey Wind was laying down, looking at the window on the floor, not in his direction, letting out just a small whine – Grey?”

The big wolfdog turned to him without raising his head from his paws.

“He didn't eat since. - Jon spoke slowly, - … and he kept hitting me with your shirt, the Guns n' Roses one you leave there to sleep in.”

“Your mother doesn't appreciate me going commando.”

“The lack of shirt is not her main problem with that.”

Theon sighed, staring at the dog. That thing loved Robb, and knew him, even better than he did maybe. He was damn worried.

He opened the door wide.

“Come in, boy, I have some of your emergency crunchies.”

Grey Wind stood up, barking happyly, tongue banging out like a flag, tiptapped to Theon under the perplexed glance Jon threw at both of them.

“So, you're gonna help us?”

“I'm gonna help Robb. And Grey. You happen to be in the full package.”

“You know you could try not being a hateful prick for once?”

“Oh, Snow, you'd be more believable with your complaint, if you weren't the type that probably would like to be bossed around even in bed.”

“First off...”

But Theon was already ignoring him, which surprised Jon, used to their frequent bickering, which was an often used way to easen tension; he discovered a different look on Theon, an unusual one: he looked nervous, sharp like glass, prone to break at the thought on the verge of his mind.

Now that he could see him, in the morning light, something was different.

In the last couple months, he met only Robb, rarely Sansa, and constantly at night. Friday karaoke night was the first time they met again. He found him thinner, but he supposed that, Theon being so into fashion, he decided to go for some weird fashionista diet of wine and air. He had a couple of scars on his face, small ones, nothing he couldn't have gained in a bad bar fistfight, but his right hand looked more like he really hit a glasswindow or something – red and bruised, with some scars of cuts over the whole surface and a finger looked weird with a scar shaped like a ring around its base.

“There's stuff Robb and I didn't tell you.”

Jon glared, angrily, “What did you do?”

Theon seemed to swallow that accusation heavily, Grey put his face against his jeans, as if he knew.

“Bad choices.”

“What news.”

Theon swallowed, “If you plan to make it harder, look, step out of that door. I can find your brother on my own, I don't need the help of my friendly neighbour emo-mess.”

Jon bit his inner cheek and decided to stop complaining. He sat down in the livingroom and accepted some coffee, while Grey sat next to them with some crunchies, finally accepting food after days of protesting.

Theon, though, procastinated quite a bit in starting the topic. He faked a serious concern about Jon having a proper cup of coffee – and sure, Theon was picky but he barely cared if Jon drank something different from dirty water – and added sugar in his own – act more unique than rare – staring at the spoon, while he mixed the coffee to melt the sweet white dust into it.

His voice sounded heavy. Usually it was light, musical, like some sort of silk – Theon was smug and charming.

Now his voice was gravel and waiting.

“I had some problems with a guy, Robb took care of it, punched him and told him to disappear.”

“You think he might have returned?”

“I... don't see... - the idea burnt his lungs and he could barely breathe – I don't see what else it could be.”

Jon stood up, “Okay, where is this one now?”

“I have no idea. - he admitted, scared, looking in the corners of the room almost automatically – He didn't contact me yet.”

“Are you sad because of it?”

“That's what I thought he would have done... what I would have... predicted.”

Jon furrowed his eyebrows, while Theon flinched at the burden of Jon's eyes and where his thoughts may have been racing to.

“Maybe it's not it. - Jon chuckled – I mean, your self-centrism is reaching new highs if you think someone would kidnap your best friend to get over you.”

Theon bit his bottom lip. He had to focus on how Robb would have hated him if he punched Jon in the face to keep himself from exploding.

“So, what, in your head my brother is maybe paying the price of your libertine habits?”

“It's not like you think.”

“You are a basket case. - Jon sighed – Why did Grey even think you could know anything? And why did I follow a dog, most of all?”

“Well. - Theon's voice was suddenly a much more familiar, stingy and sharp pitch – Maybe because even he knows Robb told me everything.”

“Oh, are you playing this card?”

“Well, your bestfriend is your brother, how sad is that? You are the human correspondance of those cheesy baseball movies with golden retrievers. Obviously, Robb, having a likeable personality, was not that desperate.”

Jon flushed in embarassment and rage, squeezing his eyes and hands to not yell.

“Because you? You have many friends, Theon, don't you?”

Theon's eyes avoided the contact, as he tried to play it off “I don't need them. Me and Robb, that's more than enough.”

“That's morbid. - he laughed, angry – Maybe that's where he went: he ran away from you.”

Theon's pupils lost light. He seemed suddenly weak, boneless.

His lips quivered, before that, with a low, rusty voice, he mocked, “Then he did the same to you. How does it rub your abandonment issues, foundling wheel?”

Jon stood up, trying to speak coldly but half-yelling, “Trying to come here was a waste, as predictable!”  
“Like trying to have a decent conversation with you!”, Theon mocked back, snarky.

“You know, Robb would speak with Asha if you went away.”

“Are you comparing yourself to my sister? Because that might be the funniest thing I've ever heard. - he put a pointing finger on Jon's chest and pressed – And for your information, I'd also speak to every other Stark.”

“Like they'd come to you.”, he shouted.

And he knew he lied: Sansa and Arya were extremely firm in even wanting to come with him to Theon, which Jon avoided also because he was not sure he wouldn't have found Robb there, maybe in indecent conditions; Bran and Cat were the only ones who opposed him, saying they didn't see what help Theon might give, while Ned just fed Rickon cookies while the little one ate them eagerly.

But in that moment, it didn't matter that half of the Starks actually trusted Theon with Robb's matters. In that moment, Jon felt a weird, drunk power, from having a dagger he knew could pierce through Theon Greyjoy's skin of smug.

Grey Wind barked, shaking them off. The wolfdog looked at them firmly, like a disappointed mother. He would have probably crossed his paws and tapped the back ones on the floor, if he could.

“Grey, come on, let's go.”

“Or he could stay here, where he eats.”

“Hopefully, he will eat you too.”

Theon's eyes opened in horror, which Jon couldn't phantom why, and then he just saw the door slamming hard against his face, closing. Theon and Grey Wind on the other side and him, flat on the corridor floor, outside and alone.

He sighed and groaned, trying to stand up again.

Of all the things he could have done, waiting at Theon Greyjoy's door like a stupid fool in need of his help was surely one he didn't want to do.

*

They were laying in bed, too tiny for the both of them, not caring for the little space they could have, because even in a big bed they would have anyway stayed close, attached, entwined like spirals of thorns and roses.

Robb played with Theon's hair, caressing the locks and twisting their tips around his fingers. Laying next to him, Theon tried poorly to keep his focus on the notebook and run his leg over Robb's, brushing them gently.

“Can you stop playing with the artist? I'm trying to draw you.”

Robb smiled, “I'm turning it into performative.”

“No. - Theon mocked, coming closer to Robb's face and giving him a wide, soft smile – How am I supposed to finish this if you keep misbehaving?”

“Maybe if I had an emotional reward for being a good boy...”

Theon rolled his eyes and shook his head, kissing him.

“Kiddo.”

Robb traced the other's cheek with his hand, “Do you think... we could...?”

“Have sex?”

“Well, yes. - Robb laughed – But that's not what I was speaking about right now.”

“I'm not gonna get you McDonalds, I refuse.”

“...maybe we could... do it for real?”

Theon laughed nervously, “Pretty sure this is the real world.”

Robb frowned, “You know what I mean: we... do we have to keep being friends and then ending up like this twice a month? Can't we be honest?”

“One thing is some sex and one is commitment, Robb. I do one very well and one awfully.”, Theon said, firmly, closing the notebook and leaving the bed.

“But-”

“If you crave the fairytale so much, return to fuck Jeyne.”

*

Theon sighed, scratching the back of Grey Wind's ears.

“I was a bit of an asshole to your owner, you know?”

Grey yawned, tongue popping out of his long mouth, and then he woofed softly.

“I was really afraid to fuck it up. - he mumbled – Which, I guess, is what I did in the end.”

Grey headbutted him and jumped off from the sofa, leading Theon to the door and scratching it with his paw.

Theon crossed his arms and spoke, loudly, “So, should I let the emobush back in?”

“Fuck you, Greyjoy.”

“Come in.”

“How?”

“I never locked the door. - he pointed out, as Jon's face whitened in horror – Slow, aren't you?”

In a moment, a very embarrassed and frowing Jon Snow entered again, mumbling, “So, I guess I overdid.”

“You did.”

“That's kind of the part in which _you_ admit _you_ also overdid and then we make a truce.”

“Truce accepted. - Theon grinned, devilishly – Come in again, we have a plan to think about.”

“Can I before ask something?”

“You just did...”

“What was friday?”

“Look, I don't think Robb would like you to get to know it like this.”

“I don't think Robb would like to be lost to start with. - Jon pointed out – But I have the right to know what the hell the plot is, if you want me to dwell into it.”

Jon Snow striking a reasonal point: Judgement day was close.

*

“Theon?”, a shout and harsh knocking on the door.

Theon came to open, unwilling to, his eyes looked veiled and he seemed spinelessly relaxed.

Robb frowned, “Are you high?”

“Maybe.”, his eyes rolled uncoordinately, while the tongue melted in a croacked sound.

“You are.”

“And then? Who are you, my mother?”

Robb's jaw tensed with a little jerk, “You haven't done this shit in years, you promised not to.”

“Yeah, well, Asha promised to convince my father to accept me back home.”, he snickered with a sob strangling the laugh from the back of his throat.

Robb then smelled something weird: a thick, sick smell, like overly fruity, as to hide something. He moved Theon, finding little to no resistance, and entered, meeting a weird man on his best friend's sofabed, sipping red wine.

“Who is this guy?”

The man gave a sly smile, “Ra-”

“I didn't ask you. - he shut him up, quickly – I'm not here for formalities: is this jerk your new pusher? Because in this case he can leave this place for the sake of his face before I...”

The man chuckled, “Oh my, oh my, Theon, shouldn't you introduce us?”

Robb shivered, his hands trembled and Theon felt his guts crumbled and his heart sink heavily.

It wasn't right, being that cruel – hurting Robb couldn't be right. He didn't want to.

“Look, Robb...”

“Are you two fucking?”

“Robb, I... you know how I am.”

The man smirked into his glass, while Robb looked at both of them, shaking his head slowly, forrowing his eyebrows, staring at Theon with disappointment embittering his lips.

Robb tried his best to grin and bear, he clenched his fists and teeth, trying to pretend he didn't want to smash that face.

“I also know how you pretend to be, - he said, finally - I just... I was stupid enough to think with me you could stop.”

Theon gave a dry, sad laugh, “You are my bestfriend, obvi-”

“He is dressed in hot pink, for fucks sake.”

“That was rude.”, the man mumbled.

“You don't judge people for how they dress.”

“But you do! - Robb defended himself – You do and he is a man poorly dressed in hot pink.”

“Theon, may you teach your friend some manners? - he stood up and went close to the door, passing next to Theon – I'll go get us some stuff, so be quick.”

He posed his dirty ice eyes on Robb, who gave him a thundering glare. The man seemed to find it amusing and satisfactory, as a hunter looks at an angry wolf, trapped.

When he closed the door, Robb seemed to clam down and realize how he behaved – Theon could read a vague embarassement in that anger he showed, but soon sadness took over, shining ripe and full in Robb's blue eyes.

“Be quick?”

“Easy come, easy go. - Theon chuckled nervously – It's not a serious thing.”  
“He seems to think the opposite.”

“What can he do: force me into commitment?”, he laughed.

Robb seemed to relax, partly, but ember shone buried in his eyes and bitterness still bent his lips down, “So... it's just as usual.”

“I didn't change. - Theon smiled, his hand caressing Robb's curls – You are my only constant.”

“Is this why we never try for real? - Robb's eyes pierced Theon's, there was a strange ferocious firmeness in his voice – So you can't lose me?”

“You could say it like that and be a conceited prick or think I'm a generous, cool friend who is saving you from a messy relationship doomed from the start, despite the great sex.”

Robb sighed, rolled his eyes, unable to be really angry. Sadness struck its arrows, but Theon was there, and that was always stronger to him than his own good common sense. The weird shadowy joy of knowing Theon found him so important and that guy so replaceable filled him.

“Don't get too sucked up in this one, I aim to make you change your mind on giving us a chance.”

Theon laughed, then bit his bottom lip, slowly, “Dream on, hot stuff.”

*

“Theon, I waited for you for one hour! - Robb shouted, worried, at his door – Are you in? Are you okay?”

“Ye... yeah, I'm fine.”

His voice sounded weak, cracked, and Robb stiffed, his eyes bigger with suspicion, “What happened?”

“Nothing, I had a stomachache.”

“No stomachache would stop you from a The Gaslight Anthem concert, Theon... - his voice was soft - ...what's going on?”

Theon hesitated, Robb could see the handle of the door go down and then up, released again, before of millimiters, then a bit more, but still not enough to open. He could distinguish Theon's heavy breath from outside the apartment.

“Hey... I've got some food, I have the disgusting rebuttant vinegar chips you like and the weird bio one hundred percent fruit fruit juice... - he laughed weakly – What else should be there, I wonder and I fail to guess, but I'm sure you know and can't wait to explain to me why the stuff I drink is junk. - he caressed the door, at the height of Theon's chest, where his heart should have been, beyond that wooden barrier, his fingertips lingered in a soft touch – Why don't you open this door? You didn't eat yet, did you?”

“I shouldn't eat...”

“Why not? Bikini season coming?”

“I take up too much space.”

It was almost a whisper, but to Robb sounded like drums, drums of war and of a need to smash a nose.

“Did Barbamsay say that?”

“You shouldn't be here, he could be back at any moment...”

“Is this his home or yours? - Theon didn't reply and Robb continued, full panzer-force-mode – It's yours, so do you want me or him inside with you?”

The door opened slowly as Robb's heart broke.

Theon was covered in bruises, part of his face and one of his hands were dripping blood, which covered his clothes, his hair dirty and eyes shining in shame and tears, he was skinny enough for Robb to notice, even though they'd met a week ago. Theon didn't even phantom to eat anything.

As he moved, Theon backed away slowly, unreasonably shaken, ready to hide his head behind his arms; but Robb just moved them, crossed every line and grasped Theon's lips in his own, pulling him close. His tongue tasted the blood, his hands caressed the tears, Theon tried to escape, just to then melt, slowly, into the kiss. His cheek was still pulsing with pain but as Robb's tongue filled his mouth, warmly, he found it both soothing, scarily real and arousing, like drowing in the deepest depth of the sea was calming and frightening and full of pleasure all together. Robb took up space, pulling him close, with a weird voracious greed, but his hands still cupped his hair and caressed his back with familiar tenderness.

Theon brought his hand on Robb's face too, when a spark of pain made him stop, together with the realization he had probably stained him.

Robb stopped, “You are coming to the hospital with me, now.”

“That's not where my mind was going right now, to be fair.”

“You could have some real damage on that hand.”

Theon sighed, “How to kill the mood.”

Robb smiled, caressing his hair, “I'm gonna kill for real if he does this again. You have to call the police.”

“So what? So they can laugh at the gay quarrel? They won't do anything, I'm a man.”  
“They are not your dad, Theon, they will have to do something.”

“They'll just tell me to man up.”

Robb held him by the shoulders, “You plan to let him hurt you just not to ask for help? You and your goddamn stubborn ass!”

Theon swallowed, “Please... don't shout... - he sighed – I have it under control, okay?”

“No, you don't. - Robb took Theon's good hand in his own – And I'd rather have you complain I was overprotecting you and overdoing instead of seeing again your face like a plum.”

Theon smiled clumsily, Robb saw one of his teeth in the back row was missing, in correspondance to a ugly purple bruise on the jaw.

He clenched his fists, smiled to Theon, while hurting his own skin with his own nails.

Hate.

He never felt something so strong and dense and filled with burned rage.

It tasted like acid and ashes.

He wanted to punch all the teeth out of Ramsay's face.

“Come. -his voice came out hoarse and he smiled more tenderly to fix that – We will go to the hospital and then stop to eat everything you want. Even at that weird bio organic vegan cake place you like.”

Theon laughed, then bit his bottom lip in a genine shining smile. Happiness trembled, welcome stranger, in his veins and nerves, from fingertips to the heart.

“You are overdoing, Stark, beware, I might really fall for that.”

“Please, do.”, Robb mouthed softly, taking his hands to bring him to a doctor.

*

“So where do you think he is now?”

Theon hesitates, memories burning in his head and lungs, heavy to pull out like clothes drenched in dark water and fear.

“I'm not sure, I... I never saw how to arrive at his places.”

“Places? As in, plural?”

Theon nods, “Don't ask me how but he had at least three different places he took me to. - he sniffs, looks at his hand, still covered in scars after Ramsay put glass through it and walked over it – He blindfolded me or knocked me out, I just know one was surely close to an external underground station cause there was so much noise...”

But not close enough for anyone coming to him when he screamed for help, when Ramsay wanted to “try something funny” with nails. He felt like puking, nausea pooling beneath his tongue and soul.

“Anything else? Smells?”

“Bleach. - he replied, dry, raising his eyebrows to sign Jon he was asking too much, but he regretted it quickly realizing Robb could be there, drenching his nostrils in the bleach's forebonding scent, sobbing, bent on the floor while – Bleach and factories, nothing peculiar.”

Jon frowned, “But why would he kidnap Robb?”

“I don't know...”, Theon admitted, tired.

“Robb is a big guy. I mean, in the last week he even started doing some lifts, how do you kidnap someone strong?”

“Clorophorme? - Theon chuckled – Are we here to congratulate Ramsay's cleverness? His criminal genius? - he laughed while tears filled his eyes but didn't leave them – Help me think, for fucks sake.”

He could feel Jon's annoyed eyes on him, but it was little to nothing to him.

He could feel Ramsay's fingers through his hair at night, he could feel the touches he reserved to his veins on his hand and the lewd way in which he liked for him to beg. He was still continuously touched, continuously hurt, continuously pierced and dirtied and he could feel the disgusting smell of Ramsay's breath on his skin when he asked him if he loved him.

He always replied “yes”.

He was always a coward – a spineless coward like his father always predicted to him. He would claim to love Ramsay just to get through the day, he would swear adoration upon his horrible lips and ugly heart just for a chance not to be hurt any longer.

He would say that, trying his best to imagine Robb in front of him, trying to hold on to the memory of his voice and skin and smell and how _good_ it was. How precious, how light.

Robb, whom he loved and whom he couldn't do any greater favor than not being with.

His eyelids trembled, “Do you still have that grey anonymous car?”

“Not everyone in the world spends a ton of money on a vehicle.”

“We're going to his father's place. - Theon stood up and Grey Wind barked with a strong nod – That piece of crap has more daddy issues than me, he is gonna go there.”

Jon looked at Theon's scars again, at his thin wrist, round signs of bones popping out tensing the skin. He tried to focus on his brother, on how much he loved Theon, for some reason that he couldn't and maybe would have never grasped. Would Robb have the same scars soon? Would he have them if they got caught?

Maybe they should have called the police, that seemed reasonable, but it struck him like a thunder - the awareness that Robb didn't. Robb, lawful good, helping cats out of trees, always reasonable and responsible, he didn't call the police even when he saw Theon; it meant only one thing: it was not an option.

“Who is this guy anyway?”

“Ramsay? - Theon blinked, giving a bitter smile – His father is Roose Bolton, he took the place of mine, after he got the dishounarable discharge.”

“That guy is the son of the police chief?”

“What better way to get away with cruelty than a uniform? - Theon shook his head – God, he even used to wear it when...”

“I don't want to know. - Jon admitted, weakly – So, do you stalk the police chief until his son pops out?”

Theon gave a weird smile, one of his old ones, but strained and tense, as if he were acting.

“Scared, little crow?”

Jon rolled his eyes and followed Theon out of the room.

*

“Okay, but did we _have to_ take the dog?”

Grey Wind whined in his seat.

“Grey detects smells better than both of us and he might be very much useful to have his pointy teeth on our side. - he paused, scratching the dog's ears – Also, I need an intelligent companion during this.”

“Thanks! - Jon bitched – And why is he on the passenger seat and I'm behind?”

“Because yes.”

“This is my car!”

“Do you ever not complain? Like did you try it?”

Jon froze and pointed out of the glass, where they could see two men entering in the house: one was wearing an officers' uniform, the other one was famailiar but neither of them could identify him, which was confusing enough, considering not many men go around with dirty hair and wearing fur.

“Is it a dragqueen we met when drunk?”

“Yeah, I bet Kimberly Clark and Roose Bolton love to discuss the new Urban Decay palettes together.”

“I understood half of what you said and-”

“Shut up, will you?”, Theon imposed.

The middleaged furred man was also yelling at Roose Bolton, shaking a bottle of liqueur and moving badly. He yelled something about the contract and needing more.

That's when Jon stepped out of the car, silent, trying not to be seen, and crawled as close to them as he could, under Theon's shocked glances. He managed to arrive to the house and stayed attached to the wall, under a window, from which he could hear enough.

“The old dog will feed you well, if you are able to shut up long enough.”, Roose thundered in a icy whisper.

“Fuck off. You're untouchable. - the man growled – You and that old asshole who shits gold have to grant me my part if you plan to destroy my bussiness.”

“It was not in my intentions to move so early. - Roose Bolton sounded impatient and cold – We should have moved only after the contract was signed. An accident happened and- ”

“Yeah, a broken condom happened! - the man yelled, furious – Keep your son in line, Roose.”

Roose sighed, as the old man left his house, storming.

“What an unlucky thing it is when trashcans are right... - he roared slowly, clenching his gloves – That little bastard and his inability to keeps things private...”

Jon's breath got heavy.

What had Ramsay already done and what was behind all of this?

Was Robb already dead? Did the guy who went rogue find him or did he walk into a trap? Was that all for Theon, for Theon of all people?

It seemed like such a waste to get hurt for that guy...

He sucked his bottom lip, realizing Robb would hate looked at him with such disappointment in his eyes and utter incredulity.

To Robb, Theon was everything. And Jon never got why.

Was it true what Theon had told him, in the end?

Did Robb really leave that night for something like that?

Jon imagined the discussion with Theon, Robb continuing it out of the bar, the tension in their muscles, Robb desperate - why? - and Theon resisting like the stupid jerk he is and sending him away, Robb, hurt, leaving him behind and going into the street. Walking always cleared his mind. Probably he didn't want to get angry at Theon and started walking and then Ramsay caught him.

If just Theon had been nicer, if just he didn't make him angry.... also why the fuck would Theon keep going out with someone crazy? Why didn't he oppose? Why didn't he call for help? He chose it in a way, he did, didn't he? And now Robb, his brother, could be dead because of...

“Jon!”, a breathless murmur woke him up. Next to him Theon, pale in the face, moved his neck, pointing to the car. Jon didn't know how much he let him wait, maybe minutes.

Theon was sweating, shivering even at the idea of being close to Bolton, yet he came to take him.

“Come back.”, he whispered, with a desperation in his voice, like a plea.

And Jon knew he was not speaking to him.

Nobody missed Robb more than Theon, for how ridiculous it may have seemed to his silly heart.

Jon nodded and followed Theon back into the car, where he updated him quickly and saw him frowning, “So he didn't think?”.

“Mh?”

“He just took Robb, he didn't think about his father. - he paused – That's not good. He often doesn't act rationally and messes up, but he wouldn't do something like this to him... if he thought.”

“It's a bad sign?”

“For Robb. - he mumbled – The good side is, if he's not thinkng staight, it will be easier to find him. - he turned on the car again – Are you feeling okay?”

“I just spaced out.”

“Don't do it again like that. - he warned – Robb wouldn't forgive me if you got hurt.”

Was he still hoping to find Robb?

“Maybe he is al...”

“No. - Theon's voice was wet and dark and full of gravel – No, he doesn't kill.”

“What's our next move? - Jon asked, leaning forward, while Grey Wind licked his cheek – We don't know where he hides.”

Theon sighed, “I hate when you are right.”

“Do you remember anything else except the factory? Of what again?”

“No idea, the bleach smell covered everything, I just remembed there were a bunch of rats around.”

“What kind of rats?”

“White and found of bites. – Theon frowned – Why?”

“White rats mean chemical lab. - Jon seemed proud – Close to the underground station... noisy...”

Theon seemed to lit up, “No, not chemical. Pharmaceutical. Aiscros pharmaceuticals got into big trouble because they still do awful animal experiments and those rats didn't look fine at all most of the time.”

“Probably some escaped and went to the close abandoned hangars.”

“Do you know how to arrive there?”, Theon asked, suddenly smiling, thrilled at the idea of having any clue, any idea.

Jon nodded but hesitated, “Can you do that? Do you think you can manage to see him?”

“I... I can't abandon Robb.”

“I can go just with Grey Wind. - he granted, soft-spoken – Look, I'm not judging, you barely told me a portion of what that guy... I... I couldn't see him in your place.”

“What if he got Sam?”

Jon breathed in and gave up, “I'd say to fuck off if you offered to leave me behind.”  
Theon smiled in victory.

*

“You are mine.”

He almost roared, low-voice, crushing each syllabe, driving glass and nails in the flesh of Theon's hand. He wished to faint, he hoped to, prayed to, but he didn't. He was awake, with pain tearing him apart, muscles cut and bones scratched or broken. He walked on that hand, squzzeing it against the floor, making it a gory pool of blood and deformed flesh.

Theon cried, screamed.

A kick on his mouth made a couple of teeth run to the other side of the room.

“Mine. - Ramsay repeated, sly, warm and slimy like a serpent – Scream again and I'll bathe you in gasoline and set fire to your limbs, one by one.”

Theon's eyes trembled and filled with tears, while he nodded, defeated, terrified.

He prayed for Robb to come.

Just Robb, his Robb. Robb wouldn't have let it happen. Robb would have been with him … Robb, whom he kept hurting...

Ramsay smiled with those ugly lips of his, wet with saliva as he passed his tongue on them, aroused.

“You're so pathetic.”

*

“Theon?”

He shuddered, waking up. Grey Wind licked his face and Jon was staring into his eyes, worried.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm not... admittedly. - Theon breathed in – But it doesn't really matter right now.”

“Robb wouldn't force you to see him again.”

“No. No, he wouldn't. But Robb punched him once for me and he probably came back here to do the same again. I can't let him die because he wanted to help me and then not try to do the same...”

Theon shivered.

He had to do it for Robb, he had to.

He opened the door and exited, followed quickly by Jon, armed with a baseball bat, and Grey Wind, slowly growling. The sky was the colour of concrete, the dark red hangars looked all the same around, but Theon didn't have doubts on which of them was the one.

He remembered too well that broken window, those pieces of glass, and the roof with a big hole, from which fell the heavy metal girders he got often tied to.

“That one, the number 6.”

He suddenly felt pain tearing his hand again. His mouth ran dry and his knees felt boneless and weak.

He was scared, damn scared.

But the idea of Robb's hand being in that pool of blood instead of his own, made him walk forward, carefully watched by Grey Wind.

Jon suggested to pass not from the main door, but rather froma less visible spot; Theon remembered a small bent part in a wall, on the corner, from which one could enter and exit and that had the entrance hidden by a mountain of debris and metal objects.

“From here. - he whispered, in a feeble and feverish anxiety – And, please, try to hit him.”

“Legs or arms?”

“Head, Snow. - he replied, shocked – God, you'd die in four minutes in any movie.”

“I don't want a man on my conscience. Even in quick times, I'd never hit the head.”

Theon raised his eyebrow, “Depends how quickly you have to think...”

“Well. - Jon mumbled – You can do a lot of damage also hitting the back, behind the lungs or the heart. The shock is hard but you don't kill.”

“You are too soft.”, Theon shut him up, while somehow feeling those words sink in his guts.

They could see him from behind the pile: Ramsay was sitting comfortably on a chair, sipping something, while contemplating a bathtub. Theon felt like puking remember all the baths he made them take there, covered in the most various liquids. He fought back the sour taste as Jon started moving, silently, reaching slowly Ramsay from behind.

“Red light.”

Ramsay stood up, pointing a gun straight in Jon's face and smiling, wide and sharp – it was not like Theon's smile, it was dull and cold and his eyes looked hollow like a ice abyss.

“And you would be...?”

Theon knew he should have moved. He should have done something.

Ramsay's hand was on the trigger and for how much he didn't like guns he wouldn't have hesitated to hurt Jon. But there was no trace of Robb and he felt hopeless and lightless.

He struggled to breathe and hid behind the debris a minute longer, trying to collect the strength to move, to face those cold eyes and that awful mind.

But he didn't have to.

Grey bit his hand and soon enough, swiftly, Jon hit Ramsay on the legs and the head, making him black out. With the noise, Theon exited and ran to him, “I- I'm sorry, I...”  
“It's okay. - Jon granted, honest – Find some rope.”

“Rope?”

“We will tie him to the chair and interrogate him.”, he explained, while turning him and making sure to keep him still.

A glance from that guy had been enough for him to drop his good intentions on not hitting the head.

For a moment, he didn't care if he had killed him – he just wanted to live. To take Theon out of there, to find Robb, to live.

He had been terrified for those infinte seconds.

Theon returned with some big unbreakeable tape and rope and they tied Ramsay's hands together and then him to the chair, making it impossible for him to escape.

Grey wooffed a couple of times, angry, circling around him like a shark observing suspicious prey.

When Ramsay opened his eyes, Theon was not looking towards him, rather, crossing his arms, he was staring, intentely, at the empty bathtub.

“Missing it, darling?”

He shivered and turned. Jon looked at Ramsay, now harmless and unimpressive.

“Don't darling him. We are here for Robb.”

“Robb? That goodie-goodie ginger joke?”

Grey Wind started barking, his jaw very close to Ramsay's face, making him shudder.

“Grey, down. - Theon whispered, with a certain general surprise – I'm not as much into torture as you, so I'd rather have simple answers: where is he?”

“Am I supposed to know?”, Ramsay giggled wickedly.

Theon sighed, “If you tell us where he is, we will go away. Please.”

“Please, please. - he mimicked a girly crying voice – That's all you were ever able to say.”

Jon stood up, “Look, he might be against torture but I'm very very in favour of hitting your face until it bleeds, so where the fuck is my brother?”

Ramsay laughed, “Why would he be here?”

Theon lifted the gun from the floor and pointed it. Suddenly, his look had no trace of fear; he was blinded by mere rage.

A laugh.

He could not bear nor swallow him laughing about Robb.

“Where is he? Did you kill him?”, he shouted, impatient, with a hint of tears in his voice.

“You think I would have killed him before your arrival? - Ramsay raised an eyebrow, his fat grey lip looked tumid in a nasty grin, he laughed again – I thought you'd know me better than that.”

His chuckle ran across Theon's spine, breaking shivers in it.

“I would have played a bit with him in front of you, and then I would have fucked you in front of his maimed body.”

“You piece of-”

Jon didn't make it in time to interrupt him, Theon's hand started to shake and his finger was on the trigger.

“What do you want to do: kill me? You don't have the guts for it.”

Theon's hand trembled.

“You know what's the truth? I never gave a crap about you hurting me! - he shouted – It hurt, it hurt but I thought it didn't matter, cause it was me, it was me so who cares right, but Robb- Not Robb you ultimate piece of shit!”, he yelled, with tears in his eyes, pointing the gun at Ramsay's head while finally fear painted itself on his face.

“You wouldn't shoot.”

“Robb wouldn't. - he groaned, his lips bending in a disgusted grimace, while Ramsay swallowed – And I've decided Theon Greyjoy won't either.”

Jon nodded, then extracted a hankerchief and wet it with a chlorophormium bottle Ramsay kept on the floor, making him breath it in and sleep. Theon could barely recognize him now: he looked so harmless and almost ridiculous. He hurt him so much and so deeply and without return and, yet, yet he didn't win.

He was alive and Robb didn't suffer any of his sick games.

He didn't have Robb nor he had his soul.

In a way, he was disgusted with himself, because now Ramsay seemed more human than ever, and with that weakness he saw, Theon felt ashamed for how weak he was too. And how Robb now fell in danger due to him.

Grey Wind whined until he seemed to return happy and Jon made sure to clean the fingertips from the gun.

They took pictures of the place and opted to call Umber, an old friend of Ned who was kind of an authority in the especially gruesome crimes field to come and avoid having Bolton cover his son's mess again.

Theon sat in the car, tired, Jon sat in the drivers' seat, staring out, “Do you want to wait for the police to come?”

“Yeah...”

“Do you want to cry? - Theon glared at him and Jon jumped a bit – I will look on the other side, if you have to, it's okay...”

Theon's glare melted, his eyes watered and his lips trembled, “- where is Robb?”  
As Theon's voice clumped in sobs and he broke into tears, Jon couldn't keep his promise to look away. He saw a child, he saw the little child that Robb met and made friends with, he saw how desperate that child would have been if Robb left his side.

Jon felt as if he had only now met Theon Greyjoy, the lonely kid who only Robb always defended and trusted.

“We will find him. - he promised in a soft hushed voice – We both have to apologize to him.”

Theon for being so afraid to follow his heart.

And he, he had to apologize for never giving a try to the person he knew Robb loved more than everything.

“You know... - he mumbled, trying to apologize - When we were kids, I used to get angry at the attention that... well, that Robb gave you...”

“You know, I knew you were always jealous of me and normally it'd raise my self-esteem but it's not the moment.”

“I am not jealous!”

“You used the definition of jealousy, Jon!”

“...did you just call me 'Jon'?”

Theon's glance ran away from Jon's face, “That's your name, isn't it? - he sighed, whispering, bitterly – What the hell was I expecting? Was I really hoping to find him _here_?”

“You just wanted to find him, Theon, and so do I. Obviously you didn't hope for anything bad.”

“Obvious, what a laughable concept. I never do obvious. - his voice became hoarse, he punched the dashboard – I never do anything that makes sense, I see a good decision and run in the opposite direction, breaking my face against a wall.”

Jon thought about what to say that could help and mumbled, “It's still a pretty face, though?”

Theon nodded slightly, weighting the words and letting them sink in, “I know, that and my sense of style are my only joys.”

“Remember when we were kids and we played knights? - he said, in a silky voice , soothing him – You always listed whatever you were wearing, like the colour of it and stuff and I found it quite funny, but Robb... liked it? He listened to those endless crappy lists.”

“...when he drew me a birthdaycard at ten, he drew me in black and gold clothes. I don't even know where he got a gold crayon. I think he stole Cat's decorative Christmas pens.”

“You know what he didn't like, though? That you always named your horse Smiler, cause you both smiled all the time.”

“Thanks for the stroll on nostalgia boulevard; your point?”

“Maybe you focus a lot on the scene you put on, on the smile, on seeming in control and you don't notice the right person will always like you, those traits that seem boring, your antics or your weird manias. Robb loves your annoying clothes rants more than your facade, always.”

“People like Robb aren't exactly common, you know?”

Jon gave a smile, proud of his checkmate, “That seems like a good reason to stop pretending you don't love him.”

“I'm a mess, I'd damage him.”

“Have you considered I don't know... trying? Do your best to avoid it while also being together? - Umh, okay, he didn't consider that – It's not like being in this state of love limbo doesn't hurt him, after all.”

“Now, will you stop being intimate and right? It's freaking me out. God, I prefer you when you nerd out with your Lord of the Ring's obsessed friend.”

“Sam?”

“Yes, Sam.”

“He is more of a Silmarillion guy.”

“Hold up, Frodo. - he shut him up quickly, and Jon was about to protest, but then he understood Theon noticed something and he did as ordered, subtly wishing not to exactly because of it – Who is that?”

Someone was exititng from a building close to Ramsay's hide. She wore a big pair of beach sunglasses and had a camera with her. She entered the closest car and drove away as fast as she could without calling attention on herself.

“Who is that?”, Theon mumbled.

“Indeed...”, Jon whispered in a weird pitch.

Theon turned, frowing, yet with a smug smile rising on his lips, “Is that your type?”

“What? No. I'm not a creep. - he pouted – She just looked... nice?”

“She looked like she never discovered brushes were invented, more like. But I guess between two bush hair that's not a problem.”

Jon scoffed, annoyed and slightly offended for no real reason, and started the car, following the woman trying to get unnoticed.

They followed her for three or two turns, then lost her. Her black car melted into the crowd of thousands of cars, went through some side road and didn't reappear. Theon cursed, hit the dashboard again and didn't speak for another three hours, despite Jon's poor attempts to provoke in him any reaction through insulting espressos, Elia Kazan and A-ha.

Only when night fell, did Jon manage to get a reaction to a food offer – and the magic words “It's on me” - to which Theon agreed with a grunt and a weak nod. It took a double portion of salmon crepes with chives and fine herbs with fennel cream to get Theon to act again like himself.

“Welcome back, I feared I would have to bring you shopping.”

“You'd need it, you can't match different shades of black.”

Jon swallowed that and pointed his fork at Theon, “So, plans?”

Theon stole the last potato from Jon's steak dish, “I am not sure. - he munched – Who else could kidnap Robb, though?”

“Well, the creepy scarecrow guy was speaking about something related for sure.”

“Unless Ramsay got another boy. - Theon mumbled – Someone else who got noticed.”

“And Robb coincindentally disappeared in the same timespan?”

“Fine, fine, Sherlock, not believable, but then? - he brooded a bit, playing with a piece of salmon – And then there is the run away Merida...”

“Do you think she is a Bolton's guy?”

“She looked more like a rat sent by someone else, but who?”

“Maybe Bolton senior wanted to check his son?”

“And sent him a Rearwindow babysitter? Creative.”

Jon puffed his cheek, “Okay, fine, not probable... sent from the... you know who he reminded me of? Denethor, in the movie I mean, 'cause in the books...”

“I barely know who Denethor was.”

“The one who acted like your father.”

“Asshole. - Theon stuck his tongue out, drinking wine – But oily hair scarecrow doesn't look like the type to have enough money to hire someone like that.”

“Good point.”

“Does... does he have any enemies?”

“Robb?”, Jon asked, with a smile that meant the answer was pretty obvious.

Robb didn't have enemies.

Except, obviously, Ramsay and... and well all the people he ever put in their place calling out their bullshit, but it was mostly academy teachers and scaredy teenagers, not people to fear.

Theon sucked his inner cheek and breathed in, “I can't think of anything, I mean, the last time he fought with someone else was for Jeyne, so...”

“Jeyne his ex?”

“No, the friend of Sansa who is into 1D. - he mocked – Yes, his ex. Jeyne's mother loathed Robb, but she is just a rich milf, she is not gonna kill anyone.

“Ew, too much info. - Jon shook his head – I am not sure what we should do now, we are kind of stuck.”

Theon sighed and played nervously with his own hair, “We need to sleep. - he claimed – I need to, at least, in order to think straight.”

“That's... weirdly reasonable?”

“I... I think that's what Robb would advised us to do, so... let's go to sleep. You can stay at my place if you have to.”

“Have to?”

“You're not gonna get anything more affectionate. Oh, and Grey sleeps with me.”

Jon sighed in relief, masking it as annoyance; he was glad to see Theon returning to his full stingy-self, even if it probably meant sleeping on the couch and without even the warm dog as a pillow.

As he drove home, he found a weird comfort in being forced to listen to Guns'n' Roses or in having his haircut commented for the uptenth time. In a way, he did care for Theon.

He stared at the overlyskinny elbows, pointy, at his sharp jaw and felt sadness pull in the gutter of his heart.

In a way, he found Theon consumed. Like a candle let lit a whole night, finally turned off and free, that composes himself again, slowly solidifying, but still brings the sign of the burning pain that melted it.

He had been afraid of Robb getting hurt or killed, but he questioned himself in a brief moment about what would have been more horrible: a quick bullet or losing yourself and struggling in finding yourself again?

They reached home with a subtle yet burdening sensation of tiredness, Theon looked outside the window most of the time and Jon drove in quietness, enjoying the scent of a light rain to come later in the breezy night. As black painted the sky, they opened the door with a weird easyness.

The red-headed woman was sitting in front of them, legs crossed with the look of one who is not afraid in the slightest.

She smiled cockly, and it reminded Theon of his sister.

“So, you were following me?”

Jon frowned, more worried than Theon, “You are...?”

“You can call me Ygritte, pretty boy. - she smiled – You are the brother and the loverboy of the young wolf, aren't you?”

That made Theon stiff and burst, “You know Robb?”

“Calm down. - she said, firmly – Yes, I do. I'm his trainer.”

“Trainer for what?”

“The zombie apolypse. - she mocked – He wanted to infiltrate to take down a certain racket and I am the policeman assigned to his cover.”

“Racket of what? Who?”

“How familiar are you with Roose Bolton?”

“...enough with the son.”

“I guessed. - she mumbled, darkly – The Bolton got weirdly involved with the Lannister Bank lately... and they seem to have some problems with Robb's family. We were trying to find the common denominator, the turncloack in the game, but when we got close to it, Robb disappeared.”

Theon sweated at a sudden, deep, shiver crawling his back.

“Since... when do you think this... interest of the Boltons towards the Starks started?”

Ygritte gave a weak swallow, “More or less when Ramsay Bolton met you at that pub. We think you were... a pawn on their chessboard.”

“A pawn... - he selfloathingly chuckled – Well, I guess bishop roles were out of stock.”

Ygritte turned to Jon, giving him a weird look to communicate she didn't feel like comforting the other guy.

“So... you also don't know where Robb is?”

“No, sadly, we are trying to find their inside man, as I said, but-”

“Jeyne. - Theon whispered – Jeyne's mother hated Robb with all of herself.”

“Yes, but you said it youserlf she did not seem dangerous.”

“But she is rich and greedy.”

Jon shook his head, “Yes, but what would she do? She doesn't seem the type that kidnaps a boy.”

“What if Robb went to them?”, Theon suggested.

“I'm sorry? - Ygritte frowned, confused – What do you mean?”

“Look, Robb is... is very kindhearted, he is lwful good, okay? But he can get hot-headed, friday he was damn angry. He could have tried to walk to Ramsay and, if he didn't know where to find him, he might have gone straight to Bolton...”

“... where he might have met the inside man, menaing he couldnt be left free to go.”

Theon had a weird gleam in his eyes, as a fever, “Now, of all Ned's business partners, how many might Robb know?”

“Umber, Karstarks, but those are clean... - Ygritte mumbled – Westerlings.. the Freys...”

Jon's eyes widened in horror, “Walder Frey!”

The other two turned to him, frowning.

Jon continued, “Walder Frey, oily hair is Walder Frey. I remember meeting him as a kid, he wanted Robb to marry one of his daughters, rarely I've seen a child so ugly even grannies wouldn't deny it. He was sort of an uncle to Cat once...”

Theon seemed impressed, “So, if Walder got him, that would explain his visit to Bolton and why he was so pissed he had to act quickly and recklessly.”

“Also if Robb went there to find Ramsay, that's why he was so pissed at Roose for not keeping his son on a leash.”

The two seemed very excited but Ygritte kept a straight face.

*

“It's Sansa's birthday, please... she wants you there.”, he pleaded.

Theon sighed and smiled, “I have white hair still...”

“We can dye them. - Robb smiled – We have two hours, please.”

“What if he...comes back?”

“After you were at the ER and I punched his lip open, he disappeared for a week, Theon. He peed himself.”

Theon glanced, almost shy, at the corner of the room, “There is going to be everyone...”

“Jeyne, Margie, Jon and two of his friends, and Loras.”

“The gay boy Sansa still has a crush on?”

“To be fair, her last crush was you. She is lowering the gay levels.”

A chuckle, “Fair. What is it, a normal club? Please, tell me it's not chinese.”

“Karaoke night. Please, please, please.”

Robb puppyeyed him and Theon groaned, trying to cross his arms but failing miserably.

“Just promise me you won't force me to sing.”

“You were always our best one, though...”

Theon smiled, flattered, putting his hands around Robb's waist and then sliding them into his jeans back pockets.

“You know how to win me over.”

“Always did.”, he laughed, kissing his forehead. His auburn curls thickled Theon.

Theon's hand caressed Robb's cheek and his neck.

His perfume felt soothing.

“It's true...”

“You're also eating again. - Robb smiled and kissed his cheek – I'm proud.”

Theon lowered his head and backed off slightly, faking a pointy smile, “Can we... not?”

“I know you are still scared by him, but the solution is calling the police and be sure he doesn't ever come back. - Robb swallowed and smiled, turning Theon's face gently – I want you to feel safe.”

Theon shut up and didn't add anything. He swallowed a bitter fear, coming through: that even if Ramsay didn't re-appear after that slight back off, he would have ruined everything with his own hands. He trembled slightly.

*

“Why did you do that? - he yelled, opening the back door of the club, followed by an extremely embarrassed Robb – Why of all the songs you sang that?”

“That was... I don't know... I...”

“Really? Think Twice? Did you need a bigger neon sign over your head that you were in love with a slut with bad love choices? Maybe Strange Kind of Woman would have been the only one worse!”

“... in my defense, I considered Heartbreak Hotel?”, he tried, weakly with a charming smile.

Theon shivered, panicking, his eyes shone sadly.

“I am not... ready for trying it with you.”

“He is gone, Theon!”

“I am not anyway! - he shouted, his voice almost cracking – Robb, for fucks sake!”

Robb lowered his glance, he looked... weak, almost hurt.

“Do you want him?”

“What...? No! - Theon gave a disgusted snort, incredulous – No, that's not it.”

“Then why can't you stop thinking about it?”

Robb touched Theon's shoulder, almost in a plea, almost in a prayer. His look was soft and warm like wax. His lips looked like an invitation to heaven.

And that was terrifying.

“Maybe I need him, okay?”

“What?”

“Maybe I need him to be my problem so I don't have to see I am my own problem!”, he screamed.

“Maybe you are!”

Theon backed off a couple steps.

“Wha-”

Robb breathed in, shook his head, horrified by what came out of his mouth, “I- I didn't mean it like that...”

“Then _how_ exactly?”

Robb sucked his bottom lip and his voice came out hoarse and wrinkled.

“I... sometimes it feels like you just don't want to try.”

“What if I fuck up?!”

“What if you don't, Theon? What if we don't?”

“I'm not ready to lose you.”

“There is no space for me, your mind is completely drenched in him.”

“I... please...”

Robb's eyes gleamed with betrayal, “I'm tired of waiting.”

“Wait, what does that mean?”, Theon grabbed his arm, terrified.

Was he leaving? Did he hate him now?

His fingers sank into Robb's leather jackets, like the hooks of a bird, desperate. He held onto him, icy fear sharply running through his veins. A weird, electric cloud blinded his head, spinny.

Robb shook his head, “I- I need a bit of time...”, he said, breaking free from Theon's grasp.

And Theon stood there, motionless, paralyzed, while Robb walked away, in the cold breeze, with rain just starting to pour.

He watched Robb go away, unable to keep him.

He hated his guts and bit his lip while clenching his fists. In a way, he thought he deserved it.

*

“No. No. And no, you guys will stay here safe.”, she said, not admitting discussion.

“What? I can't stay here!”, Theon protested.

“Stay here or I'll shoot your legs down, clear, pretty boy?”

Jon frowned, “He is right, we have to help.”

“Did I ask you for an opinion, prettier?”

He blacked out a second and then his eyes shone like a child's on Christmas morning, “So I'm prettier to you?”

Ygritte groaned and Theon added, “Forgive him, it doesn't happen often.”

“You are staying here, in the car, far away from people with guns, clear?”

“Crystal, madam...”

Theon refused, “No, Robb is there. We... we need to find him.”

“You're not going to solve anything by being there and if something happened to you due to your recklessness, do you think Robb would forgive himself?”

“...probably not?”

“You are his loverboy, no? So he needs you very much alive, thank you.”

Theon nodded, reluctantly, sinking in the car seat. Jon seemed to apologize with a quick look, but didn't say anything more.

Yet it burnt the idea of not doing anything when Robb was probably there, in the creepyass Walder Frey property.

“He has a villa, right outside the city.”

“Then he has money?”

“Not saying it's in good condition. - Ygritte commented, briefly, staring at both of the guys – He uses that for a sort of child bride business.”

“And you let that be?”

“Calm down, Sailor moon, if we arrested him for that, we wouldn't have got the Boltons.”, she snapped back at Jon.

Theon sighed, staring outside of the window, “He must be there...”

“You are gonna stay in, clear? We've got it.”

“Sure...”

He wanted to scream and run out of the car, but he didn't. He stayed there. Fingers entwined, while Jon nervously cracked his kunckles over and over again.

He saw the policemen entering, he looked at them warning the Frey's men and shoot at some, he watched in silence as the situation got worse, biting into his lip flesh until blood came out of it eager and dense.

Then he saw him: Walder Frey running out from a back door, gun in his hands and rushing to what looked like a tool shed. A tool shed.

He stood up and opened the door of the car, realizing only a few moments later he had no weapon. Fuck, him and his own gun control ideas.

Then he saw it: a stone, flat and pointy, like an arrowtip.

“Areodynamic enough.”, he said, throwing it into Walders direction with enough strenght to make him fall as his back got hit.

“Are you an idiot? - Jon yelled – They said to stay back!”

Jon was soon enough ignored also by Grey Wind, rushing out of the car with him and running to give Walder Frey's legs a good morning he wouldn't have forgotten anytime soon.

A smile grew on their faces.

“Good boy!”, Theon exclaimed as the huge wolfdog kept Walder down, strong enough to not let him use his gun while some agents found him.

Jon turned Theon and shouted, “He could have killed you!”

“I had to be quick.”

“What if he shot you?”

“What if he shot Robb?”, Theon yelled back and Jon gave up.

How to fight with someone about something you would have liked to have the guts and wit to do yourself?

Ygritte glanced furiously yet impressed at both of them, while a policeman calmed Grey Wind and handcuffed Walder, already ranting and complaining loud enough for them to want to use another rock on him.

Ygritte shot the lock on the shed, entering in it quickly and cursing in relief.

Theon tried to come closer, but a zealous policeman with a huge red beard was already yellow-taping the perimeter and gave him a look strong enough to make him decide that waiting was less dangeous.

Ygritte came out of the shed, keeping her arms around a cocoon, a tall cocoon, coughing from where small red curls popped out.

Theon moved closer and Jon felt his shoulders losing a terrible burden, as if he finally took off an armour of concrete.

The cocoon hood lowered and Robb appeared from it, he gave a cough and he shook away dust from his curls. Grey Wind jumped on him, barking in happiness, almost throwing him on the grass. Robb lowered slightly, ruffling the soft fur of his huge baby dog and calling him all sort of proud nicknames.

And then he turned and saw Theon.

The blanket dropped from his shoulders, his face was dirt with ashes and soot – the pale grey on his face made his lips look redder and his eyes bluer. He moved quickly, yet those meters looked like the longest travel to Theon, as he quietly waited beyond the yellow line, his knuckles white from the tension, while he nervously rubbed his nape and hair with the look of a lost puppy.

Robb smiled, running to him and stopping right against the yellow line, putting his hands on it.

“Hey...”

“Hey... - Theon bit his lip, his eyes were watery – You look alive...”

“I am.”

“I hope you know that I was damn worried, like I cooperated with Jon, fuck you.”, he smiled with tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

“I see... - he looked over to Jon, who was trying to calm down Grey Wind, still protectively barking against Walder as he tried to move – You are quite the weirdest team.”

“Eh, mutual hatred of fried food and love for you kinda made us bond.”

Robb swallowed and then smiled slowly, “I am sorry I was such a jerk the last time we met.”

Theon shrugged and smiled back, his teeth popping out from the lips, “Eh, I am a jerk every time we meet.”

“That's your charm, though.”

“Fair point...”

“Can you forgive me?”

“You infiltrated in a crazy criminal borthel in order to make sure my ex didn't ruin my life any further, so...”

“I- I did it out of selfishness. - Robb admitted, smling weakly, his hands nervously bending the yellow tape – I wanted us to have a chance.”

Theon looked around, took a moment to breathe in and then, suddenly, he bent, passed under the tape and emerged again on Robb's side.

“About that... I think I owe you a date.”

Theon smiled, radiantly as Robb held him, passing his fingerstips through his curls, kissing his soft lips and smiling against them, whispering like in a charm, “If it's a dream, don't wake me up, please.”

“I'm kind of needing you to be very awake for the long series of activities I have in mind. - he smirked smug, as usual, then his smile got sweeter, and he kissed Robb's cheek, gently – I love you.”

“Are you serious?”

“You... had to be kidnapped to hear that.”

Robb rolled his eyes to the ceiling, pouted and the nodded strongly, moving his head up and down, as if he was weighting some hypothesis.

“Would totally do it again.”

“I- You- You are a damn idiot. You are forbidden from taking decisions again. Especially if they are about me. - he slapped jokingly his hand – Bad, bad boy.”

Robb laughed, “Is kissing you included in the list of forbidden decisions?”

Theon mumbled, slightly pouting, raising his eyebrows, tempted, “I guess, I can make an exception for that.”

 


End file.
